Proverbs - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Cat Smith
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 7

Darkness enveloped her like a warm blanket. She was warm and roasty-toasty, with hardly a care in the world. But on the edge of this, she started to dream...

She and Remy were in a darkened room. She couldn’t make out any details of the room at all, no curtains, no wallpaper, only Remy. His eyes were a deeper red than ever, his hair shiny, his face angular. He smiled, and it lit up his face, making his already unearthly beauty devastating.

"Cherie!" He whispered quietly, and, closing the gap between them, held open his strong, muscular arms. Feeling a poignant ache in her chest, Rogue gladly accepted his embrace. She felt tears come to her eyes, and after running down her cheeks, the salty streams of intermingled sadness and joy continued their flow down his bare chest.

"Ah was so worried about you..." she whispered, her voice almost breaking. "I thought you were dead!"

As she looked up at him, she saw a grim smile curve his mouth, the dark light in his eyes. After a short bark of false, bitter laughter, he nodded slightly. "An’ maybe I am at dat..." Then the smile turned genuine as he stroked her face tenderly. "But we ain’t gonna spend our time talkin’ ‘bout dat! We together now. Dat be what matters."

Her smile tenuous, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his lips softly. "Ah love you, Remy."

"Good," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously in the dark. "'Cause I wouldn’t want y’ t’make love t’ someone y’ didn’t love!"

For a moment, Rogue just stood there, staring up at his smile. She had been without real touch for almost ten years, now, thanks to her powers. She’d almost got used to her them, to her vampire’s kiss... She paused on that thought, and something, accompanied by a dull ache in her neck, nagged at her. Remy kissed her again, with lips so soft, that she couldn’t think of anything else. He stopped, and she stared at him, emerald eyes wide.

"Ya really want..." she blushed, and forced herself to look at him. "Ya really... want me?" She touched his face, stroking the stubbled jaw. She loved him, she really did, but she couldn’t believe that he really wanted to make love to her. That he cared enough to share with her this most intimate act with her was almost unbelievable.

As if he could feel her uncertainty, he clarified his feelings. "Of course. Je t’aime, toujours." With a gasp, Rogue realised that she not only heard the words, but felt the feeling behind them in her mind. She was about to comment on it, but decided better. She wanted to be with him, and for some reason, knew that they wouldn’t have long. Besides, the feeling was pure love, and it felt so good, she had no reason to complain. Without a word, her lips met his, his tongue stroked hers. She felt her clothes drop to the floor an instant before Remy lowered her down to follow them.

Eyes slowly opening, Rogue found herself in a dungeon.

*O’ course,* she muttered darkly to herself. *Just the bitch’s style.*

Finding herself in a pair of manacles, she struggled against them. But no matter how hard she did, she couldn’t manage to free herself. She was sure she still had her powers... she tried to fly, and found that, indeed, her feet hovered several inches above the ground, but she still felt weak as a kitten. Frowning, she concentrated, then gasped as she remembered what had happened outside the theatre. Remy’s kiss, and then the sharpness against her neck. He couldn’t be... he wouldn’t have... Shaking all thoughts of the silly idea from her head, she forced herself to look at the room around her.

It was swathed in a semi-darkness, with moonlight streaming in from a grill high, high above her. The room was circular, and very tall. The main focus of the room was a table in front of her, on which lay a few dozen instruments that were very sharp, and looked very painful. Shuddering, Rogue’s gazed swooped over them, and she hoped that she wouldn’t be on the other end of those implements of torture, as in this weakened state, she wasn’t fit to fight off anyone!

Pulling her gaze away from the table, her eyes looked over the walls, to find any indication of weakness, of something that when her strength returned, or even half returned, would aid her in escaping this dreadful place. She found none, only manacles decorating the walls, a thick wooden door and dust on the floor.

With a cry of anguish, Rogue wanted to hit something! Frustration gripped her with a strength she had never felt before, and she fought against the chains again, but only succeeded in chafing her wrists, making them bleed. Gasping, she felt tears run down her face, and she lay back against the wall, resigned for the moment. She didn’t even look up as she heard the door creak open.

"Chere?" At that, Rogue looked up, and thru the haze that her tears brought, saw that it was Remy. As she sniffed, she remembered the dream she had not long ago, with extreme clarity. She blushed bright red, the colour of roses. At least he wasn’t topless, now. He was wearing a suit of dark velvet, with a dark grey silk shirt.

"Merci dieu..." He whispered, and Rogue saw him walking up to her. "I t’ought I’d hurt y’..." He wiped the tears from her eyes tenderly. "I suppose I did, didn’t I?"

"What... what’re ya talking about?" Asked Rogue softly, already knowing the answer.

Remy bit his lip, then cursed, bringing a hand up to his mouth, and Rogue saw blood drip between his fingers. After a second, he pulled his hand away, the skin of his lips unblemished, not torn, and smiled weakly.

"Bit o’ a drag, havin’ fangs," he said, and then grinned toothily, purposely showing Rogue his new-found long, pointed canines. Not able to help herself, Rogue retreated from him until her back hit the wall.

"You... you..." she muttered, almost hysterical -- she hadn’t been able to admit it to herself at first, as most humans aren’t able to grasp elements of the preternatural world. But now, the evidence was here, in front of her, and she could no longer deny it. "Oh, God..."

"Oui, Roguie." Remy winced as the fanged blurred his words slightly. "I’m a vampire."

Rogue gasped, tears coming to her again. "No... Oh, God, no..."

Purposely standing back from her, giving her space, Remy shook his head slightly. "I don’ t’ink he had anythin’ t’ do wit’ dis, girl." He murmured.

Rogue looked at him accusingly. "You, you bit me!"

"Je suis desolee. I was hungry... It’d been two days since I’d..." He winced again. "...fed, an’, an’... I was so hungry!"

"You fed on me!" Cried Rogue, feeling as though her heart was breaking. "Ah thought ya loved me!!" As she screamed at him, she pulled again on her chains, tearing the skin of her wrists even more.

Noticing her sharp intake of breath, Remy walked up to her, and glanced at her wrists, touching them softly, taking note of the damage.

"What’s the matter, sugah?" Rogue asked bitterly. "Still hungry?"

Remy looked at her then, and Rogue saw the pain in his fascinating, mysterious eyes. "I didn’t mean to hurt you, chere. Je t’aime, c’est vrai! If I hadn’t been starvin’, if Hadea weren’t dere, I would never have touched y’. Dat I swear."

Rogue was about to say something sharp and witty to him, but, then, something strange happened. The feeling that she had got in her dream, that he was somehow projecting what he was feeling, happened now, in real life. Only now, it wasn’t love she felt, but hurt. She did believe him. Not only that, but she was sorry she had hurt him. She flinched, and was about apologise, but Remy turned his back on her. When he turned back, he had a needle in his hand. Rogue stiffened in a moment of irrational fear, but when he inserted it into the lock of the manacles, she relaxed. Her hands came free from the manacles, and with nothing to keep her up, she fell to the floor as a wave of dizziness came over her. However, before she could reach the cold, dank ground, Remy caught her in his strong, warm arms. For a moment, Rogue wondered why he was warm. In all the books she had read, vampires were always cold.

"Dis ain’t a book, chere." Remy reminded her. "An’ t’ings are always different in real life." He looked at her, eyes hard. "Dey’re always alot harder."

As Rogue looked back into his eyes, she understood what he had meant. It was hard for him. He was the one who felt the blood thirst, the split loyalties, the disgust with himself over what he had to do to keep himself alive. "Remy..." she started. He waved her silent with a sigh.

"I’ll get some water t’ clean y’ arms with."

On impulse, before she realised what she was saying, she blurted out; "You do it."

Remy turned, eyebrow raised. “What’s dat?” Breathing shakily, Rogue offered her wrist to him.

“You do it.” She whispered, looking up at him from the floor.

He sat down next to her, and looked at her. “Rogue, I’m not sure if y’ know what y’ sayin’...”

She nodded contradictorily, smiling weakly, showing him that she did trust him, that she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. “Ah know. Just do it already, Remy. Ain’cha hungry?”

Nervously, he raised her wrist to his lips. “’m always hungry, cherie.” Looking at her, he licked her wound clean, then the other. Rogue swallowed thickly as he licked the blood from his lips. “Not pretty, is it?” He asked, quietly. Wordless, Rogue shook her head. Closing his eyes a minute, Remy whispered; “You afraid?”

After thinking a moment, Rogue answered, “Not of you.” Remy looked up at her in surprise, and she nodded, at the same time realising herself that it was true. Looking down at his glove-less hand on her wrist, then back up at him, she leaned forward and kissed him. “Ah love you.” After a moment of gazing at her in silence, he gave a fragile smile.

“I hoped y’ were gonna say dat.” He hugged her, and she him. Then, she looked up.

“Make love ta me, Remy.”

He blinked at her. “Qu’est-ce que tu... what did y’ say?!”

She smiled softly and ran her hands up and down his biceps. “I want ya ta make love ta me. We might not get th’ chance later, but now, we’re alone, an’ ah love you, an’ you love me...” After a minute of looking at her again, Remy bent down and kissed her. After a moment, the two of them were kissing, exploring each other’s bodies, enjoying the feel of the other’s body touching theirs. Rogue touched Remy’s shirt, ready to unbutton it, but he retreated slightly, and shook his head.

“No, chere. Y’ deserve more dan dis.” he stood, pulling her up with him, and to the door.

“Where’re we goin’?” Asked Rogue inquisitively. Smiling, his eyes twinkling, Remy put a finger on her lips, and led her thru many long, maze-like corridors, until Rogue was sure he was as lost as she was. Then, he opened a door, silently, and led her into a dark room. Rogue shuddered in delight, remembering every detail of her dream, hoping the same would happen here. Rogue flinched. The darkness was complete. There was no moonlight, no candlelight, nothing. But within a second, Remy alleviated her fears as he lit a candle, then another and another. Soon, the room was illuminated by a good ten candles. With an intake of breath, Rogue looked around the room in approval. It was clean, with cream wallpaper with gold emboss, and several tables and cabinets, on which the candles were perched. But the main feature of the room, and the one that made Rogue blush from anticipation and fear was the large four poster bed. The mattress looked comfortable, and the drapes hung down, lace edged, around it. Inevitably, Rogue’s gaze fell back on Remy, and she looked at him from her position in the room, and her heart raced faster.

He was smiling at her, his mouth curved upward, usually invisible dimples showing in the deeply shadowed room, giving him a ‘cute’ look that usually was just sexy. Dark eyes sparkled seductively. His body was leaning, relaxed, against a chest of drawers. he pushed himself up, and walked toward her. Stroking her cheek, he asked softly;

“Y’ sure ‘bout dis, cherie?”

Rogue nodded. “Ah’m sure. Ah want ya. Ah want us... ta be tagether.” Remy smiled at her again, and kissed her softly. Rogue responded, and began to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders, and started pulling off her t-shirt. Without a word, he pulled her over to the bed, and lowered her onto it.

“I’ll never let y’ go, cherie. No one’ll ever harm y’ if I’m here.”

Later, Rogue lay in Remy’s arms, under the warm, feather duvet. The drapes of the four poster gave them privacy, almost as if they were in their own, tiny little room together. For a moment, Rogue worried for Remy, as it was surely day now, but she remembered there were no windows in this room. Realising how easily she had accepted this change in him was almost frightening. But, of course, he was still her Remy. He still loved her.

“Would die f’ y’.” Rogue jumped as he spoke. He laughed softly, and pulled her to him. “Je t’aime.” He whispered.

“Ah wish ya wouldn’t read mah mahnd,” she told him.

His eyes glinted as he grinned. “Den y’ shouldn’t ‘shout’. Especially t’ings like ‘Oh, God, do that again!’”

Rogue blushed bright red, and hit him playfully in the shoulder. He smiled then.

“Y’ gettin’ stronger, chere.” He hugged her again. “T’ank God.” They lay there in the dark for a moment, then he apologised. “I’m so sorry f’ hurtin’ y’, Rogue! I never meant... I shouldn’ta...”

“S’okay, sugah. Ah understand.” She told him, her head against his chest, eyes closed, savouring the moment. Then she felt Remy stiffen under her.

“I don’t though.” The words came from outside the bed, from inside the room. Rogue sat up as Remy bared his teeth, and his eyes flashed.

“Get outta here, Hadea.” He told her, quiet menace in his voice. The drapes in front of them opened, and a very angry looking Hadea looked in at them.

“Don’t presume to tell me what to do, Remy. I don’t like it.”

Rogue looked from Remy to Hadea, then her gaze fixed on Remy, and she grasped his hand. He broke his watch of Hadea enough to turn to her and kiss her, assuring her that everything would be all right. Then he rolled out of the bed, still naked, and walked to Hadea. He shut the front drapes so that all Rogue could see was thru a heavy veil of thick cotton.

Hadea was stood, arms folded, looking at Remy in silence. He looked like he didn’t want to make the first move, but was being forced to.

“What d’ y’ want me t’ do? Y’ obviously don’ wan’ me t’ be with her.” He whispered, though Rogue could clearly hear the words.

“I want you to feed on her! That’s what she’s there for!” Hadea threw her arms up in an extravagant show. “I thought you’d got the right idea at the theatre, but apparently not...”

“You’d starved me!” Remy said, he voice still low, but very threatening. His eyes flashed in anger.

“But, Remy,” purred Hadea, stroking his face. “I did that for your own good! I knew you wouldn’t feed on them without hunger, and you needed their strength!”

Remy stepped back from her. “I didn’t. I needed dere love, dere forgiveness. I have it, in dis woman.” He gestured to Rogue.

Hadea looked at him, her eyes cold, then her hand shot out, and grabbed him by his throat. Gasping, trying to get air, Remy struggled against her, as she spoke. “I made you, Remy LeBeau, and you owe me more than you can ever repay. Get that woman back to where she was, and come back up to me.”

Dropping him to the floor, he fell heavily, gasping for breath. Hadea kneeled down beside him, and stroked the inside of his thigh. Weakly, Remy batted her away. She only gave a peal of laughter, and stood, starting to walk off.

Rogue crawled to the end of the bed, and lowered herself onto the floor. “Remy? Sugah?” She asked as she sat next to him. He was staring blankly over her shoulder. She cupped his face, and he looked at her. She saw the tears in his eyes, and she held him. “It’s okay Remy. We’ll figure something out. Ah promise ya.”

“Non,” he whispered. “It’s not possible. Dere’s nothin’ y’ can do.” He raised his arms, and held her tight for a moment, then stood, and pulled on his pants, which lay on the ground next to him. “Come on, cherie. I ain’t got no choice in dis, an’ it’ll be easier if y’ come peacefully.”

“Remy...” started Rogue. Remy placed a finger on her lips, and shook his head.

“Don’t.” He handed her her clothes, and she pulled them on. Refusing to let him be used like this, she tried to think of something that she could do.

“Well, ah don’t rightly reckon you could make me! After all, ah’m stronger’n you are!” She argued.

“You’re stronger dan I was, Rogue. I’ve at least twice de strength y’ posses. ‘Cause I’m a vampire. Don’t let y’ self f’get dat, cherie.”

“Remy, don’t ya get it?!” She asked, pleading with him. “Ah don’t care! Ah don’t give a damn! All ah know, all ah care about is you, an’ ah surely ain’t gonna let ya be used like this.”

Remy paused, a moment, and looked her straight in the eye. “Merci, chere. Dat means alot, but it don’t change nothin’.” Taking hold of her arms, he dragged her from the room. Rogue struggled against him.

“Stop! Stop it! Ah don’t know what ya thinkin’, but just stop! When ya drop me off in that dungeon, an’ go up ta her, what’re ya gonna do? Huh!?” She stared at him, defiance in her eyes.

“What ever she wants.” Answered Remy quietly, refusing to meet her eyes.

“So what we did last night means nothin’ ta ya? Ah’m just somethin’ ya did while ya waited foh Hadea ta be done?!”

“NO!” Yelled Remy, turning on her. “Don’ y’ understan’? I owe all I am to her. If she wants somethin’ from me, I’ll do it. But dat’s just ‘cause I owe her. I love you, Rogue. Dere’s a world o’ difference dere. “

“So why don’t ya act like it?” Asked Rogue, quietly, as Remy pushed her into the dungeon.

“Because,” he started, standing in the doorway, well away from the sunlight pouring in thru the grill at the top of the room, “I’m hungry. An’ I ain’t gonna risk hurtin’ you ‘gain. Au revoir, cherie. Je t’aime.” With that he shut the door, and left Rogue standing, in shock and amazement, in the cold, damp room. After walking around for a moment in shock and hurt, she sat down and started to cry.